by Ivan Kal
The Harbingers gathered as well and came close.
“Well done. It was a good hunt,” Evor said.
Morgan turned his eyes to Emily, who was looking at Lucius on the ground.
“You left him,” Morgan said softly. She turned her eyes and looked at Morgan.
“I couldn’t have helped him even if I tried,” she said, but the ring on Morgan’s finger didn’t heat up. He knew that she was lying, had known it before he activated the ring. Now that the fight was over he could see what their plan had been. He watched the other members of the Harbingers, none of them reacting much. They had purposefully held back—their rogues had to have had abilities or skills that could’ve helped in dealing with the elemental.
And he had recognized what Emily had been doing throughout the whole fight. She had been defending his teammates, jumping in to rescue them when the elemental turned to them, building up the trust—and then in that one moment when she was really needed, she had jumped away. The worst thing was that he understood exactly why she had done it—just to force them to use at least one ability that they hadn’t said anything about before, like Lucius’s Flash Step and Vall’s Pillar of Fire.
He had hated her before for the things that she had done to them, for abandoning them to what was in her mind certain death—but now he could feel that hate going away. This was who ascended were, and it was as simple as that. There was no point in hating a snake for being a snake. These were the people who ran this world, who cared only for themselves.
This tournament was not meant for them. They were here for the rewards and nothing else; they would never trust another person with their life, would never strive to gain strength to climb the Tower. These were not the people that the Great Guilds organizing this were here to find. Morgan looked up at the orb, wondering what the people watching would think about their hunt. Would they pass them, or would they fail them? It was out of his hands. He stood up, not even bothering to acknowledge the Harbingers anymore. He walked over to the core and picked it up, then used the dagger inside to break it in half. He walked back and threw the dagger on the ground and then gave half the core to Emily.
She tilted her head at him. “What’s this for?”
“So that you can claim your half of the contract,” Morgan said.
She looked at him for a long minute and then nodded. She turned to her team and they walked away. Morgan caught the elf giving him a sneer, but soon turned back around. The orb remained floating above them; Morgan wondered why that was.
“How is he?” Morgan asked.
“Stable,” Clara said. “I’ve regrown muscle and flesh, but he will need a few days to recover.”
Lucius grunted and tried to stand up. Ves reached down and helped him as Clara moved over to Vall and started tending his smaller wounds.
“What was that all about?” Ves asked, nodding in the direction of the departing team.
“Nothing. I just realized in what kind of a world I am living in.”
“You’ve been here for years, Morgan,” Ves said. She hadn’t really understood what Morgan had said, but that was okay.
“Yeah, it’s about time.”
* * *
A day later they finally managed to get back to their inn. It had been slow going with Lucius injured and all of them being tired as hell, but they managed it. The student, Turvas, had walked back with them. He seemed like a cheerful dude, but they hadn’t been in the mood for chatting. Morgan had been thinking on the fight the whole time. He was trying to count just how many abilities the Harbingers had used. The elf had been casting mostly fireballs, and only once had he used something that looked like a beam. The giant had used only one ability—the force-push thing with his staff—while the two Úlfriir had just used their weakening daggers at the start and then done nothing. Emily used two abilities, her ground stomp and the shield. The ground stomp he had already known about from their time in the dungeon, and he could assume that she had some form of Terrakinesis.
It didn’t really tell him anything about what kind of styles they had, while they had seen quite a bit of the styles of Morgan’s team. They might not have used many abilities, but they had shown how they fought, which was perhaps worse. If they did manage to pass this round, the Harbingers would have a great advantage over them.
As far as experience went, all of them had gotten around seven thousand. It wasn’t nearly enough for Morgan to level, but Clara had gotten a level, joining Vall and Lucius on level twenty-nine; unfortunately, however, she hadn’t gotten any new skills or abilities. From the fight Morgan had only gotten one level in the Throwing Weapons skill.
As the night fell, they all retreated to their rooms. They were exhausted and needed rest. There were three more days left before the end of the second stage, and Morgan planned on taking that time to figure out what they were going to do if they passed—and if they didn’t.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The arena looked somewhat empty with just sixty teams—its size made their gathering seem like a small crowd. The platform was again filled with the same people: Ragnor Raam, the Shara Daim man who looked like an unmovable force, with Richard the Bone Splitter standing at his side. Standing on the other side was Grand Mage Ta’elara, with her blue hair and pale face, and Kalrak and Evermou, the two representatives of the Erthirium Riders Guild, behind. Morgan waited in silence as the others around them spoke softly. The Last Vanguards were standing next to them as always, they had been successful in their hunt as well. They had been sent after an Oni, which was an upgraded ogre: bigger and more powerful. From their talks, it had not been an easy fight, Vrshar had been injured; even now he wasn’t looking like he was 100%, with his eyes being bloodshot and his movements slow. Lucius had mostly recovered from his wound, but he, like Vrshar, was not yet completely back to form.
While their two teams had fared well, others had not been so fortunate. Morgan glanced to one of the teams standing a bit away from them: the Thunderer’s Edge team from Azure Dynasty, the winners of the last stage. They were missing a member, one of the Gnolls.
“They say their warrior got bit clean in half,” Last Vanguard’s Hexna told him. She had to have caught him looking.
Morgan felt sorry for the team. He could see the pain and sorrow on their faces. But that was the way of the ascended, and they weren’t the only ones here who had lost team members. Being an ascended made one strong, powerful, but the monsters were strong and powerful too. While healers could do much, they couldn’t reverse death—not even a healing potion could do that.
If an ascended died, their body disintegrated into blue particles that scattered on the wind. There was no bringing them back, which was why having a healer that could keep members alive until combat was over was important—if an ascended could survive until combat was over, they were most likely going to live.
“It is a sad thing,” Morgan commented.
“I’ve heard whispers,” Jelara said as she stepped near. “People are saying that they shouldn’t have won the last stage. Their team operates in this area, so they had already had experience with the dungeon they were sent to clear. Had known it by heart.”
Morgan nodded his head at the new information. It made some sense; if they already had a worked out playbook for the dungeon, they would obviously clear it far faster than someone who was unfamiliar with it. Morgan wondered why the evaluators had ranked them so highly, then—perhaps they didn’t know that they had already gone through the dungeon, or perhaps if they did know they didn’t care. Maybe they were evaluating them based on the run that they had watched and nothing else. Whatever their reasoning was then, the team had lost a member now. That didn’t mean that they hadn’t deserved their first place, however, as perhaps they just had bad luck on the hunt. In the end, Morgan doubted that it mattered to the people who had lost their friend.
Ragnor took the stage, taking a moment for the crowd to turn their attention to him.
Morgan felt a stab of anxiety ru
n through him. Once they had passed into the second stage, he had realized that he did want this—he wanted to win and be chosen to go to the Tower, to climb and grow stronger. He wanted power, so that people like the Harbingers could never again hurt him or others close to him. The Tower was his destiny, his legacy, a challenge given by his father, and Morgan would rise up to it. He would look his father in the eyes and tell him that he was wrong; that this world he had created was wrong, and that it didn’t need to be this way; that the strong didn’t need to exploit the weak, that the lessons he hoped to teach them could be taught another way.
That there didn’t need to be so much pointless death.
Morgan might not know much—he most certainly didn’t pretend to understand the things that Oxylus was dealing with, the reasons behind his actions—but Morgan had seen what a group of people working together could do. His guild was small, a refuge for him and his people, a place where all were valued. That is what the world should be.
He might not pass into the next round, and even if he did, he might not win, but he would climb the Tower. There was no doubt in his mind about that.
Ragnor finally decided to speak. “The second stage is now over. Many of you have lost people while some have lost none, but you have all reached for more. For that alone, if nothing else, you should be proud. Ta’elara will now inform those who will not be advancing to the next stage.” He gestured, and the woman stepped up.
Again, she summoned a scroll and it burst into fire.
Morgan waited for the notification to appear, but none did.
And then people started walking out of the arena. There were no cries or grumbling this time; the people who walked away did so with their heads bowed in silence. Morgan saw the winners of the last stage, Thunderer’s Edge, gather up their things and walk out. Morgan wondered how he would feel if his team had lost someone and then not even progressed to the next stage—probably that they had sacrificed for nothing. At least they had the reward from the last stage.
As the losers walked out, there were just twenty teams left, around fifty people. Not all teams had five members—some had more, others had less—but only ten hunting parties had passed. Morgan looked around and found the Harbingers standing some distance away, watching the platform. Morgan waited for his anger to surface, but it remained absent. He had come to the realization that hate and anger would gain him nothing. Emily was a warped person according to Morgan’s standards, but as far as ascended went she was exactly what Lucius had always spoken to him about: people who have power and want more of it, but are unwilling to risk themselves. They fight monsters only when they must, and then leverage whatever they can find in order to survive. Oxylus had told him that this world had not shown him many results yet, and Morgan knew that was because of the way this world was. People who only wanted to extend their lives were not what he was seeking; they were not the people who would risk themselves in order to reach higher, to climb the Tower.
Morgan was actually surprised that the Harbingers and his team had passed. He didn’t know what criteria they used when they evaluated their actions, to be fair, and he had thought that the fight went well enough. They had fought together until Emily retreated, even if they had kept some abilities a secret.
Then Ragnor spoke again. “The winners… First place—Fjordstar and Gorn’s Swords. Second place—Emagenum and Dark Iron Dwarvar. Third place—Harbinger of Fate and Sky Force. Kalrak and Evermou will give out the rewards.”
Morgan blinked. He hadn’t expected them to be anywhere near the top three. Lucius and others looked at him with disbelief in their eyes.
“Congratulations,” Jelara said with a smile, or as much as a giant lizard could smile. The other Vanguards joined her and congratulated him as well. Borodar slapped him on the shoulders and grinned.
“I guess this means we need to get into the top three for the next stage. Can’t be left behind!”
Evermou stepped to the front. “Harbingers of Fate and Sky Force, approach the platform.”
Morgan snapped to his senses and his team walked to the platform, being met with the Harbingers near the stairs.
“Good work,” Evor said with a nod.
Morgan nodded instead of answering. There was no point; he had seen who the Harbingers were, and they were not a team that he wanted to be close with. They climbed the stairs and up on the platform. Once there, Morgan was suddenly aware of many eyes being on him, and he glanced at the crowd. Somehow it looked smaller from the platform, but it was also terrifying. He saw races he had never laid his eyes on. Refusing to be overwhelmed, he walked over to Kalrak, the human who was to present them with their reward. He stood next to Emily and waited.
The man took two small chests out of his inventory, holding each in the palm of one hand apiece. The small chests opened up on their own and showed the contents. Morgan was surprised by what he saw: the contents of both chests were identical, and there were five items. Two were potions of healing—small bottles with the red liquid inside—and the last three were small stones, each identical, looking more like gems shaped like pebbles. Morgan used his Inspect skill on them and frowned when he found that he could see what the stones were.
Stone of Ascension (Shard) — Can be merged with an object. Once merged, the object will gain the ability to level and gain special functions, and cannot be removed from the object. The rank and effect of the stone’s influence on the object depends on the level of the object and its quality.
Morgan’s eyes widened as all the possibilities occurred to him. Obviously he could put it into a weapon, getting a tool that could become extremely powerful. As he was thinking, he noticed Emily reach up and take the chest, and he hurried to do the same. He bowed to the Kalrak and turned around before walking down. He stored the chest in his ring and returned to where the Last Vanguards were standing.
“That is a great reward,” Borodar said. Morgan looked into his eyes, trying to see if there were any feelings of jealousy there, but he saw nothing but happiness for them. Morgan had known that the Last Vanguards were good people, but he also knew that in this world he had to be careful.
He was so engrossed in his thoughts that he completely missed the second-place winners come on stage and take their rewards. Turning around, he asked what they got. Hexna told him that they each got a single Stone of Ascension, as well as powerful swords, along with five healing potions.
Then Morgan turned to look at the winners approach the platforms. The Fjordstar and Gorn’s Swords teams walked up proudly. The Fjordstar’s leader, a white-furred Úlfriir, walked first, followed by an elf that was the leader of the other team. Kalrak summoned two larger chests, placing both on the floor. Open light shone upward, and the look of shock on the two leaders faces told Morgan that it was something impressive, but because of the size of the chest they couldn’t be tilted to show the crowd what was in them. The two leaders bowed and then put the chests in their inventories. After that they walked off the platform.
“What do you think it was?” Hexna asked.
“Whatever it was, it surprised them,” Lucius answered.
Morgan nodded, but he wasn’t all that interested in pursuing his curiosity further. He looked instead toward Ragnor, who walked back up to the front of the platform. “With that done, we have our final stage: one-on-one tournament combat. The rules will be simple; combatants fight until one surrenders, or one is incapable of continuing the fight. The winner moves on, and the loser is out. Fights will be team versus team. You will choose one fighter to fight for you from your team, and if you win, that member will not be able to fight again until all other members have fought once.”
Morgan immediately realized the problem with that. With twenty teams there would be five rounds for some of them, but not all. Some teams had more members and others less, as well. It wasn’t a fair system, but Morgan could see that even this was a test. The Great Guilds were not here for fairness—they wanted to put teams in strange situations and see
how they reacted.
“The tournament will take place in three weeks in this very arena, and will be open to the public. Spectators from Al’Valor will be watching you, guilds will be watching you. The Grand Mage and her academy will record your fights, and you will be seen by people all over the world. Even if you do not end up winning, opportunities might present themselves. The match-ups will be posted a day before the tournament starts, on the boards in front of the arena. Rest and prepare.”
With that, the group walked off the platform and disappeared.
* * *
Once back in their inn they were gathered around their table looking at their chest.
“So how are we going to distribute this?” Vall asked with a hungry look in his eyes.
Morgan reached down and pulled out the two healing potions. “These go to Clara.”
“Obviously,” she said as he handed them over.
“As for these…” Morgan turned back to the stones, thinking. Having a weapon that could level and gain abilities of its own was very tempting; although the wording said object, and he wasn’t exactly sure what that meant. It probably meant that it could be used for armor, rings, pendants and other things, although it was a bit of a wide term. Morgan didn’t like that, as it left a lot to be intuited on its own. He knew why it was the way it was— the Guiding Force wanted people to explore and use the system that governed the world more like a guideline rather than a funnel. Still, if it could be put into all weapons, that would obviously mean staffs, which were organic, which begged the question of if it could be put into other things. Could you find a pet, a non-ascended animal, and put it in, making it an ascended being? It was an interesting question.
He turned his mind to the matter at hand, deciding who should get what.
With the team’s best interests in mind, Lucius was the obvious choice. They all lacked powerful weapons and items; their gear was well made, but nothing uncommon. He was their strongest fighter, especially for one-on-one duels. Morgan reached down and pulled one stone, handing it off to him. The others all nodded in agreement as he took it.